Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

[ JUL 2022 ]

It was one of those days where Yushi’s schedule was just so packed. 

By this time, he was already used to days like this being a trainee for four years, and that is if you don’t count the years he had been attending SM’s summer training. 

If it were just the upcoming monthly evaluation, he would have been feeling just fine. He knew the routine: train until his legs give up and push through until his deep breaths turn into short puffs of air. But the thing is, the training staff announced that they are cutting at least 30% of the trainees to make space for new recruits from Japan.

The usual stress had turned into full-blown pressure, eating away at every single trainee—including him. 

“Okay, last rep, then let’s have a five minute break,” Sion, Yushi’s company assigned longtime monthly evaluation duo, called out. 

For thirteen days straight, Yushi had practiced the same dance. He trusted his muscle memory to get him through the evaluation, but deep inside, he didn't just want to survive the cut—he wanted to ace it. 

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling of being stagnant. Same dance, same grooves, same partner, same daily routine. His life feels like it is an endless loop. 

The feeling first hit when his best friend, Chanyoung, got lined up for debut—right in front of his eyes. He had been there when Chanyoung first stepped into SM, and had been there when the training staff pulled him aside to break the news that he would be joining a new team debuting in a few months. 

Since then, he felt all of the uncertainties crashing onto him. His debut, his long years as a trainee, his upcoming monthly evaluation—heck, even his nonexistent love life, simply because he had watched a romcom earlier that week. 

He had a million thoughts swirling in his head as the five minute break ended. With a sigh, he pushed himself up from the floor. He knew that acing this evaluation would be just enough to uplift his spirits, to get his groove back.

Exactly seven days later, Yushi sat inside the biggest training room where all of the trainees are gathered before individually coming into the room where they will be evaluated. 

His palms were sweatier than usual, his nerves heavier in his chest. He wiped his hands against his pants, sneaking a glance at Sion, who caught him and chuckled before nudging him playfully.

“Don’t be too nervous! I’m getting nervous because of you!!!” 

If there is one thing Yushi’s never gonna complain about being too constant, it is Sion. He is grateful to live with him, train with him, and, most importantly—especially today—perform alongside him during the most nerve-wracking moment as a trainee.

“I’m not nervous. I just wanna get this over with,” Yushi defended.

“Okay, if you say so… your sweaty hands aren’t gonna lie though,” Sion teased.

Yushi laughed, exhaling shakily. Thanks to Sion, he calmed down just a little. 

The evaluation went on as usual. They got called into the smaller room, performed, were offered water afterward, and listened to a few comments from the training staff before heading back to the waiting room. 

“You can calm down and dry your hands now, Yushi. We did well, as expected,” Sion teased again, and Yushi wiped his damp palms on his best friend’s arm in retaliation. 

When their names were announced as the top-performing trainees for the month—and as expected, safe from the cut—Yushi felt nothing but relief. 

Life returned to normal after the evaluation, just as he had promised himself. He got his groove back, reminding himself that his time would come—that he would debut at the perfect time with the perfect members. That he would experience the romcom scenes he deserves when the universe deemed it right. 

He just didn't expect the perfect time to come sooner than expected.

One perfectly ordinary day, in his perfectly worn denim jacket, a training staff walking in—with an oh so perfect boy by their side.

Yushi had met all kinds of trainees—handsome, tall, pale, cute, the best of the best features—but what struck him was the boy standing by the door, in his full glory, wearing an oversized black graphic shirt and the baggiest jorts he had ever seen. 

He has such a perfect skin tone, Yushi thought. 

In that moment, Yushi swore to never doubt fate.

Riku was introduced as a new recruit from Japan. 

His skin looks exactly like his longtime crush, EXO’s Kai. And as Yushi stared, he took Riku's features—his puffed cheeks, his sharp nose sitting prettily between his captivating eyes, his hair, his lips—oh, his lips. 

Never, in his entire career as a trainee, did Yushi ever think he'd meet someone this perfect

Never did he think his first romcom scene would happen at the worst possible moment—while he was drenched in sweat from practicing SHINee’s Sherlock. 

Then, Riku spoke.

“Hi everyone, I’m Maeda Riku. You can call me Riku, I’m so excited to train with all of you,” he said, smiling. 

Yushi heard his sweet voice, saw his dimples, scanned his hundred teeth peeking as grinned—

“I’m not gonna make a fool out of myself in front of this guy named Riku,” Yushi swore.

Or so he thought. 

He stood frozen. He was unsure whether to wipe off the sweat dripping down his temple or to just keep staring. His heartbeat, still erratic from Sherlock, seemed to be pounding for an entirely different reason now.

Riku scanned the room, his gaze landing on each trainee—until, finally, their eyes met.

For a moment, Yushi swore Riku’s eyes sparkled and his lips parted slightly, almost like he was about to say something.

Until the training staff clapped their hands together, bringing everyone’s attention back. 

“Riku, starting today, you’ll be training in this room with this group,” the staff announced, “Everyone, especially our Japanese trainees, please help him adjust.”

Sion, ever the cheeky teasing one, leaned in and whispered, “You’re staring too hard.”

Yushi rolled his eyes, snickering, “No, I’m not,” he whispered back, voice betraying him. 

“If you say so,” Sion laughed, nudging him forward before offering Riku a high five. 

“Welcome to the training team. I’m Sion, an '02, trainee for 3 years. Hope you’re ready to spend your entire life here in this training room,” he joked.

Riku chuckled, high-fiving him and bowing—awkwardly. “That sounds fun, I’ll try my best to keep up.”

Then, to Yushi’s absolute disbelief, Riku turned to him.

“You’re Yushi, right?”

There it was—the perfect voice, the perfect face, in perfect full glory—an unbelievable moment that felt straight out of one of the romcoms he loved.  

Yushi cleared his throat, praying his voice wouldn’t crack for the second time today. “Yeah. That’s me.” Oh God, that was so awkward, it must have been the wind, chotto matte, my voice was too high, i can’t believe first impression lasts He must hate me now I can't—

Riku smiled, bright and genuine, with hundreds of his teeth showing. “Nice to meet you. Let’s work hard together.”

Yushi blinked. Then blinked again.

“Uh…yeah, of course, definitely.” Willing himself to react normally.

Sion barely held back his laugh. “I think you broke Yushi.”

Yushi elbowed him while looking anywhere but the perfect boy in front of him, but deep down, he knew—

It wasn’t just the evaluation that was about to change everything. 

Chapter Text

[ NOV 2022 ]

He (miserably) keeps his hunch to himself, hoping it'll fade with changing seasons, brushing off the mesmerized feeling as nothing more than the fact that Riku is just... so so handsome and nothing else. 

But it's already the last week of October—almost four months since their first encounter—and the nerves haven't gone away. Especially now, with Riku standing so close beside him as they practice together. 

Yushi had once sworn to never complain about the monotony of training again. But for the first time, the training staff split him and Sion up as monthly evaluations partners—and paired him with none other than Riku. 

One thing Yushi had learned, after years of surviving SM's monthly evaluations, was his system: how many hours to devote to each skill—rap, vocal, and dance—and in what order. He always tackled rap and vocals first during the initial week and a half, since he could practice those literally anywhere: in the shower, on walks, even while pissing. He reserved three days for learning the choreography on his own, and then spent the rest of the month perfecting the routine with Sion.

He knew this routine like his favorite anime—the one he had watched at least seventeen times.

He was doing fine. Until the day he got paired Riku. Until they were handed NCT Taeyong and Ten’s Baby Don’t Stop.

Why the hell, Yushi thought, this song?

Don’t get him wrong—he likes the song. No, he loves it. The tempo, the performance, the grooves and musicality. But also, the boy he'd be performing it with

During their three-day solo choreography prep, Yushi found himself staring in the mirror more often than necessary. Checking Riku out. (Purely for performance evaluation. Obviously.) And the three times he got caught, he managed to pass it off as "just checking your lines—as a senior, duh."

“Yushi, can you check my posture in the chorus,” Riku asked one day, breathing a little hard.

“Yeah, sure,” Yushi replied, attempting a neutral tone. 

Riku mumbled Taeyong’s lines as he moved. Yushi watched his body—shirt clinging with sweat, long legs showing beneath those ridiculous jorts, his expression focused.

Damn. Why was he already practicing his stage face?

He'd forgotten he was supposed to be observing Riku’s dance line. 

“What do you think,” Riku asked, snapping him back to earth.

First, he's handsome, then he’s a good rapper, but why the hell is he also a good dancer, Yushi panicked internally. I can’t believe this, I need to focus and practice and ace this, I swear I don’t wanna embarrass myself in front of him. 

Out loud, he blurted, “Your legs are really pretty.”

Riku blinked. Then burst out laughing. “My legs... look pretty?”

Yushi flinched. “Did I say that?” He blinked too quickly, his brows furrowed in embarrassment.

“You literally just did,” the pretty boy continuously laughed. 

“I meant—they're bent perfectly. And, well...your posture. And your hands, your hands—you can extend them a bit more. You know... like this.” he added, gesturing with exaggerated motion at the mirror.

And that's when he caught the state of his cheeks. Red. Burning. 

He started fanning himself. “Sorry. It's so hot—the AC. It feels like it’s not working right.” 

Riku let out a gentle chuckle, that usual cat-like grin with a hundred teeth full display. “Yeah. It's a bit warm,” he teased.

Yushi thinks he’s teasing but he tries to convince himself that Riku’s oblivious to the fact that he’s blushing. 

Yushi tried (keyword: tried) to demonstrate his point again, voice trembling under the weight of his composure, before bolting out of the room for a five-minute break, brisk-walking to the bathroon.

What the hell just happened? 

It was their fourth day of learning Baby Don’t Stop, but their first actually practicing it together. 

Yushi had been so optimistic about this day. He needed something new. A different partner. A different vibe. As mundane as his trainee life could be, this was the kind of change he actually craved.

They began with stretches to build chemistry—something their instructors always said Yushi and Sion excelled at. Chemistry makes or breaks a duo performance.

Yushi was doing fine. Until Riku started sweating.

And by the unspoken rule of trainees, when sweat hits, jackets come off.

Riku peeled off his bomber, revealing a black tank top. 

Yushi's optimism vanished along with the jacket.

He forced himself to look away. He gupled. Focus, he told himself. You're here to dance, not to spiral.

He tried not to get distracted by Riku looking effortlessly cool (not to mention his arms).

"Alright, let's run it from the top," Yushi said, clinging to professionalism with the last of his media-trained breath. He started the music. Their movements were precise. On time. Intentional. But the closer Riku danced—his fluidity, his intensity, his everything—the more Yushi's composure unraveled.

It didn’t help that the routine was naturally powerful and intimate. The lingering eye contact, the little touches, the brief pauses that feel so long. Every step was just a reminder that Yushi had to hold himself together, act composed, and appear as if this was just another performance, another dance routine.

“Loosen up, Yushi,” Riku said with a breathy laugh. “I think you’re too stiff.”

"I—stiff? No. I’m not stiff." Yushi said instantly, overly defensive.

Riku tilted his head, amused. "Your shoulders say otherwise."

Yushi exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders out in defense. But the tension wasn’t stiff from dancing—it was from not losing his mind.

They ran it again. And again. Yushi swore he was fine—until during one move, Riku stepped in too close. Their bodies nearly collided during one of the choreographed steps. The fact that they practiced this particular move and Yushi still flinched instinctively, throwing off the timing of the routine, tells the other boy that something is off.

Riku stopped mid-motion to examine him, "You okay?"

"Yep. Perfectly fine. Excellent. Yes" Yushi wiped his face with the collar of his shirt, willing his face to cool down. “Let’s try it again.”

And so they did. Again. And again. Until the dance became second nature. Until the steps blended seamlessly—just like the way Riku's proximity began to sync with the new rhythm in Yushi’s chest.

There were things Yushi loved about being partnered with Riku, like his snacks. Japanese jellies. Classic childhood candies. Riku packed them like a traveling vending machine and shared with nearly everyone—especially Yushi.

The night before their monthly evaluation, after burning through forthy reps of Baby Don't Stop, Riku handed Yushi a snack. Not just any snack, but the one Yushi had loved ever since coming to Korea. Riku just gave Yushi his favorite snack in his favorite flavor: Pepero White Cookie.

Yushi tried not to show how shocked he was. But his sparkling eyes gave him away.

During their 10-minute break before their final run-through, he pulled out his phone to kill time. A message from Chanyoung lit up:

“I can’t believe I’m training and working tomorrow instead of having a date oN FREAKING PEPERO DAY. I HATE CHILD LABOR.” 

Wait.

Pepero Day???
Tomorrow’s Pepero Day?!??
He just gave me Pepero the night before Pepero Day?!?!?!

Yushi glanced at Riku, who casually munched on his own without a care.

He checked the date on his phone–sure enough, Pepero day is in two hours.

What do you mean he gave me Pepero the day before Pepero Day?
What does this mean?
Does this even mean anything??
I mean it should, right? Considering tomorrow’s the 11th of November.
But he’s new in Korea, maybe he doesn’t know about it?
Or what if he does and just casually gave me one because he—

Yushi panic-texted Chanyoung.

“He gave me a Pepero. What does it mean when another trainee (who you’ve been training with for almost the entire month) gives you Pepero a few hours before Pepero day??”

“Dunno? Maybe he wants to kiss u or smth that's the essence of Pepero Day right,” Chanyoung immediately replied. “Wait WHOOOOOO ???? DO I KNOW HIM???? HER ????”

“U don’t."
“Maybe u do”
"Idk"

He tossed the phone aside. Overthinking every interaction from the past month like it held some hidden code.

Does this even mean anything??
Or is this just a big coincidence?
A coincidence so big it replaces the entirety of my brain?
Does he want to kis—

“Yushi, break’s over!”

Snapped from his spiral, Yushi returned to his mark. His cheeks were flushed. His mouth dry. He couldn’t remember the first beat of the choreography.

Their eyes met whenever the choreography required it.

Instead of focusing, Yushi’s gaze flickered.

It flickered down to Riku’s lips. 

That night—as the clock inched toward midnight—Yushi really, really wanted to kiss him.

Chapter Text

[ JUNE 2023 ] 

Ever since being paired for Baby Don’t Stop, Yushi and Riku had spent more time together—not exactly as friends yet, but as two trainees crossing more paths than usual. 

At first, their interactions were purely out of mere convenience. They started commuting together to SM after realizing they live only two floors apart. Riku would also ask Yushi to check his dance lines, while Yushi asked for advice on the intonation and tone for the rap songs he’s been practicing. Their conversations only revolved around training–until they didn’t. 

Somewhere between shared practice insights and the occasional commute, the awkwardness melted. 

Yushi introduced Riku to his favorite Japanese restaurants nearby, knowing the weight of homesickness and the undeniable and hard-to-resist ramen cravings. In return, Riku offered Yushi his jellies and candies–pockets of nostalgia that both of them found in these sweets they both lived off as kids back in Japan.

While they were stretching and warming up before starting their practice, a staff member called Riku aside. Yushi watched them in the far corner of the room for a few minutes, stomach twisting when Riku wiped his eyes. Moments later, Riku was ushered out of the training room.

Yushi’s breath hitched. This is exactly how trainees get cut—on a normal day, at a random time. 

Yushi really admired Riku. In a span of one year, Riku seamlessly adapted to the trainee life. He is a great rapper with own style and swag of dance, his vocal abilities are above average, and most of all, his personality stood out. Beyond his talent, Yushi also admires how hardworking he is. 

Riku often leaves the training room later than most of the trainees and arrives earlier than some of the staff. He rarely takes breaks, and when he does, he still listens to the song, mapping the moves in his head, shutting his eyes shut as he sips water or catches his breath.

Yushi tried not to spiral. No. There’s no way they’d let go of someone like Riku.

Hours later, Riku returned, with eyes puffy and his cheeks stained with ears, but he didn’t acknowledge them. The older guy went back into practice as if nothing had happened. Yushi observed with the heaviness in his chest, unsure what to do and unsure of what this meant—he just acted like he usually does—staying quiet.

During a longer break, the urge to do something overwhelmed him. Without thinking, he grabbed his wallet and his phone, mumbling an excuse to Sion before heading out of the training room. 

Yushi is not the type to break rules. He never left the training premises during breaks. He was never really the type of person to waste a good few minutes of rest. Unlike other trainees, he was never the type of trainee to sprint to the nearest convenience store during a break to buy drinks or snacks—but today, he couldn’t wait. 

He just wanted to wipe Riku’s sadness away.

Standing amidst the rows of snacks, he exhaled sharply. “Okay, I’m here… now what?” 

Jellies. He grabbed handfuls of different kinds without thinking, along with a strawberry drink. He wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do, it’s his first time to break such a rule, he only knew for a fact that Riku had to smile. 

He returned with just three minutes left to spare, scanning the room until he spotted Riku curled up in a corner, scrolling on his phone while hugging his water bottle. 

Yushi approached hesitantly.

Riku blinked up at him. “Hi… you’re sweating.” His tone was unsure because it is unlikely for Yushi to sweat and to allow sweat to dwell on his porcelain skin.

“I went to the convenience store,” Yushi admitted, voice small. 

Riku’s brows shot up. “You?! You went to the store?!” His voice barely more than a stunned yelp.

Yushi can’t help but laugh—not at the reaction but at himself. He really broke the rules for this boy adorably sitting on the floor. 

But somehow, the jellies didn’t matter anymore. The surprise on Riku’s face had already cracked through the sadness. 

“I got you these…” Yushi presented the plastic bag full of jellies and candies and a strawberry drink, cutting off Riku’s giggles mid-breath.

The older boy stared at him before whispering, “Did you know? How did you know..?” 

“Huh? Know what?” Yushi cluelessly blinked.

Riku rubbed his neck, blush creeping up on his cheeks. “Today’s my birthday.” 

Yushi stiffened. 

He didn’t know. 

He just wanted to wipe Riku’s frown away, to strip every ounce of sorrow from him in his body, (because his smile looks so pretty and he misses it), because he wanted to cheer him up.

“...I didn’t,” Yushi admitted, then grinned. “But now I do, so… happy birthday?” 

Riku chuckled, offering both hands to Yushi signalling him to help him up. And when Yushi pulled him to his feet, Riku pinched his cheeks playfully.

“Let’s eat the jellies after training to celebrate,” he said, smiling so big, his entire teeth finally visible.

Yushi swore he saw the sun.

Maybe Riku was the sun, bright against the gloomy weather of June .

The training day ended and Riku packed his things up as soon as the training staff dismissed them. He roamed his eyes around and spotted Yushi who was wearing his tiny sling bag while still scrolling on his phone when warm fingers suddenly wrapped around his hand.

His breath hitched.

Before he could react, Riku was already tugging him towards the door, his grip firm but comfortable.

“Wait—” Yushi stuttered. “My hands—” He has been teased so many times about his sweaty hands that he started to feel insecure.

“It’s fine, let’s gooooo” But Riku did not even mind. 

Yushi was too startled to dwell on it until he realized he wasn’t fighting against it anymore. Their usual commute is familiar until Riku suddenly went out of the way, turning a few blocks away from their dorm.

“This isn't the way to the dorm,” Yushi said, his voice hinted with concern.

Riku, quick to reassure him. “It’s not. Because we’re not going home yet.” 

It took them a five minute walk before they stood in front of the ramen shop— his ramen shop. 

Yushi blinked. His favorite ramen place was just a few blocks away from their dorm, yet he had never once brought Riku with him. He only told him about this specific restaurant in passing when he started telling Riku about his favorite Japanese restaurants. 

To him, this place was an extension of home. The food they served was almost similar to the ones he had in Japan during his younger years. This place is a witness to his quiet moments of homesickness, his late-night cravings, and his small wins as a trainee.

“We still have a few hours left today to celebrate my birthday,” Riku said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Yushi didn’t reply immediately. He only smiled and nodded before Riku opened the door for them. 

They slipped into their seats, ordering their favorite bowls and side dishes. Conversations started slow but flowed easily. They started complaining about their sore muscles, Yushi laughing at how terribly he butchered Haechan’s high notes while practicing Hello Future, updates on their Korean lessons, and childhood stories about Yushi’s younger brother and Riku’s older sisters.

Riku fell silent. 

“A while ago,” Riku started hesitantly, eyes lowering to his fidgeting hands, “The staff pulled me aside because my sister called them. She wanted to greet me a happy birthday but I was unreachable a while ago while training.” 

Yushi listened.

Riku swallowed. “And then I cried.”

Another pause.

“I just really miss her,” he laid bare, voice raw. “She usually makes ramen for me on my birthday… bakes me a cake. This is my first time celebrating away from her, and… it feels new.”

Yushi didn’t say anything. Instead, his fingers reached across the table, gently caressing Riku’s knuckles. 

A silent understanding. Of course he knew— knew how it felt to be away from home at such a young age, to adjust, to mark special days without familiar comforts.

Riku exhaled slowly, gaze lifting to meet Yushi. “I got sentimental earlier, but… yeah. You and your jellies are here, so I’m doing more than fine now.” His voice softened, and finally— finally— he smiled again.

They ate, their movements comfortable. Sharing side dishes and stories, slurping ramen broth, slipping into a calm rhythm that felt too natural now.

Until Yushi excused himself mumbling, “I’ll be back.” 

Riku barely looked up from his ramen, nodding absentmindedly. “Restroom?” 

Yushi hummed quickly.

Except he wasn’t heading to the restroom. He was already speed-walking down the street, scanning for the nearest cafe, silently wishing and hoping they had something left.

Fate and luck was too kind to him that day. A strawberry cream bento cake sat, waiting, untouched. 

Minutes later, Yushi returned, the cake carefully balanced in his hands. He set it up a few tables away from Riku, placed the candle in the center, and lit it. Then, taking small, hesitant steps, he started approaching their table.

“Happy birthday to you~ happy birthday to you~,” Yushi sang—quietly, shy, but sincere. 

Riku, ever so surprised, his eyes widened. Tears brimmed, shimmering under the restaurant’s soft glow as Yushi reached the table to sit. Rike gently pressed his palms under the other boy’s hands, supporting the weight of the cake together, humming along to the birthday song.

When the song ended, Yushi whispered as soft as the clouds, “Make a wish, Riku.” 

A beat of silence.

Riku smiled—slow, warm, and breathtaking—and closed his eyes.

As if the whole world stills, as if the earth stops rotating, and as if they’re the only person in that ramen place, Riku closes his eyes, the candlelight flickering gently against his features—soft, warm, beautiful.

Yushi watches.

He watches the way Riku’s brows relax, the way his lashes flutter against his cheeks, the steady rise and fall of his breath causing the candle to flicker even more.

Something familiar yet so new pulled deep inside Yushi’s chest, tugged at his ribs, curled in his stomach. His heart erratic, his palms sweating all over again. 

The feeling is not overwhelming, not all-consuming, but something quieter. Something delicate.

Something dangerously close to liking him.

It sits there, right at the edge, teasing the line between mere admiration and something he’s not ready to name yet. 

He wants to stay in this moment just a little longer, just enough to memorize the warmth, the way the candlelight flickers against Riku’s honey skin, the way his chest feels just a little tighter. 

He doesn’t know what he wants exactly.

He thought about the moment Riku took his hand earlier without hesitation, the warmth lingering even now while Riku’s holding the back of his palms. 

He wonders if the jellies and cake are enough gifts for the beautiful boy in front of him.

He knows his heart is beating just a little too fast.

Again, he wonders if Riku would appreciate another gift.

For the second time, Yushi wanted to kiss Riku.

But wanting isn’t liking.

At least, not yet.

Chapter Text

[ JULY 2023 ]

The last time Yushi trained with Riku was on the day of Riku’s birthday. After that day, the executive staff announced that all the trainees, including those Yushi had practiced with, would join a survival show: NCT Universe: LASTART.

It was now the make-or-break moment that will determine Yushi’s fate, a chance to secure the final four puzzle pieces for Yushi and Sion’s future NCT subunit.

Ever since, the staff have separated the trainees into different pairs, assigning each trainee a specific partner for the first performance. Yushi has been training with Sion—and thank the universe it’s with Sion, given how comfortable he is with him.

As LASTART fast approaches, their pre-show photoshoots have been scheduled. Today is the day for their profile shoot.

Sitting in his hair and makeup chair, Yushi scrolls on his phone, when the space beside him is suddenly occupied by a familiar presence.

“Hi,” greets barefaced Riku, his black straight hair framing a soft smile.

“Hi,” Yushi replies with a smile. 

He’s all dolled up now, with the makeup artist already adding the finishing touches on his hair as his turn for the shoot approaches.

“You look pretty,” Riku remarks, his eyes scanning Yushi’s entire face.

“Thanks?” Yushi manages to say—his voice coming out a pitch higher than usual despite his best efforts to sound normal.

The compliment sends Yushi’s ears aflame. Despite the slight embarrassment, he enjoys the intimacy of this unexpected moment.

Riku giggles as the makeup artist continues working on Yushi’s face. Yushi’s ears remain red for several minutes, prompting the artist to add extra powder to cover those up a little before his profile photoshoot starts.

After his shoot, Yushi retreats to a far corner of the studio. He scrolls on his phone and chats with nearby trainees until a staff member announces a familiar name—signaling it’s Riku's turn for the photoshoot.

Quietly, Yushi watches as Riku prepares for his session. He observes the final touch-ups of powder and lipstick near the set before Riku steps in front of the camera. Despite murmurs from fellow trainees and staff, Yushi can’t help but think:

Handsome isn’t even the right word for this handsome of a face . 

In his seven years as a trainee, Riku’s visuals have always overwhelmed him and he believes that the moment he first saw Riku was the moment he encountered beauty on a whole new level.

“He’s too handsome, right?” Ryo states as a fact, with a giggling Sakuya by his side.

Ryo and Sakuya are Yushi’s beloved Japanese dongsaengs—reminding him of his little brother, enough to grow close with them. Like Yushi, they are also beneficiaries of Riku’s jelly and candy feeding program.

Yushi simply just nods in agreement, content to stay quiet. His thoughts are interrupted when Sakuya adds in a sure tone—

“No wonder many trainees like him.”

“Like?” Yushi blurts out—his heart feeling as though it has dropped to his feet. 

It’s a sudden, unfamiliar feeling—initially reminiscent of mere hiccups, but deeper, unnamable. He ponders on it, only to have his thoughts interrupted by Ryo’s playful remark. 

“Yuppp,” Ryo says, popping the last letter. “He’s not named after THE Mark Lee and called Markuri for nothing. Look at Anderson-hyung right there—he’s for sure freaking over Riku-hyung right now as I speak.”

“Markuri…” Yushi trails off as he scans the room for Anderson, one of Riku’s closest friends in the training pool.

It is painfully obvious how Anderson’s cheeks tint a sheer pink as he stares at Riku, his mouth forming an almost perfect O shape.

“Ryu-hyung, too—he’s been coming to our room every night to talk about Riku since they’ll be performing as a duo for the auditions.” Sakuya adds.

Yushi glances around. He sees Ryu. He looks painfully constipated , Yushi thought and his heart hammers silently. 

Yushi continues to admire Riku from afar, silently, hoping that the two kids don’t notice his heart pounding out of his chest.

When Riku finishes his shoot, Ryu hugs him from the side. That’s a clear queue for Yushi to look away and settle comfortably back into his seat. Yushi unlocks his phone and resumes scrolling, until he hears the staff and the trainees murmuring over Riku’s raw photos flashing on the TV near the production team.

“He’s so handsome,” “Really handsome,” “What a face,” “Woahhh.” 

The series of comments swirls around him, making his hands sweat and his cheeks blush anew.

This is what he gets for being so silent and unobservant. He had been truly oblivious to the fact that there are countless eyes fixed on Riku.

Those thoughts subsided as Yushi focuses on LASTART auditions—a month of relentless practice and pressure. 

Who would’ve thought that besides the insane pressure of forming a group (where the survival show essentially picks members for him and Sion), they would be performing twice every two weeks to prove their worth as new NCT members?

Yet securing a spot and performing twice weekly for two months sounds like a fair trade, if he’s honest.

The day of the auditions begins with a big huddle on the main stage. Trainees, program directors, and stage managers circle around to deliver the day’s instructions.

Yushi, sitting beside Sion, tries not to space out during the briefing. Thankfully, as good of a leader Sion is, he really focuses on these types of meetings and absorbs every detail really well, saving Yushi’s ass when his mind wanders.

In front of Yushi, a boy fiddles with his hoodie laces while intently listening to the instructions in Korean, translating them for his duo partner.

It’s almost unfair how good Riku looks in his casual outfit. While Yushi just picked out the most random outfit he can come up with because the stress has been eating him alive, the boy in front of him appears as if he could strut on the Paris runway.

Yushi watches as Riku’s eyes shift from the program director to his partner, animatedly using his hands to explain further, his sharp nose, and his lips that pout slightly as he talks. When Riku finally catches Yushi’s eyes, Yushi nearly gasps—as though caught doing something forbidden

Riku looks directly into his eyes.

Then Riku smiles at him. 

For the first time since LASTART was announced, Yushi feels grounded. His heart flutters—not from the pressure, stress, or nerves—but from the uncertain feeling of excitement of a tightrope walk for Riku. Almost there, yet never quite ready. Almost falling but still steady. 

Yushi offers an awkward smile in return.

Riku giggles, gives two thumbs up, and mouths, “Good luck.”

Yushi smiles, nods, “You too,” and replies softly.

The program directors wrap up the meeting with a chant: “NCT LASTART fighting!” After which everyone heads to their waiting rooms.

After a few hours of hair and makeup, the survival show officially begins.

Yushi and Sion perform first. Just like their monthly evaluations, they do well, receiving compliments that dissolve their nerves and constructive points they surely take note of to improve upon for their next performances.

Excitement is an understatement of how Yushi feels, knowing he will finally get to see Riku perform, not just during a practice run before an evaluation, but in a full production with perfect makeup and styling to match their performance.

Back in their room, Yushi watches the other performers on the monitor until the camera finally focuses on Riku and Ryu, who will be performing together.

Yushi grows jittery—a change not lost on Sion. 

“I heard from manager-noona that their rehearsals were great.” Sion says, trying to ease Yushi’s nerves.

“Yeah…” Yushi mutters. “His sore throat, though,” he adds softly. 

He’s well aware that Riku has been suffering from a sore throat for the past three days. With all the nerves, the sore throat, and the pressure, a whole month’s worth of preparation for the audition day could crumble in an instant.

Yushi clasped his hands a little bit tighter, wishing that Riku’s nerves would simply vanish and that all his hard work would shine through on stage.

True enough, when the music begins, every anxious nerve in Yushi’s body turns into awe and admiration—just like the way he admires other K-pop idols. And then, something more—a unique, almost indescribable warmth surges within him. 

God damn, Riku.

Yushi flashes back to the first moment he saw Riku: Riku, in his full glory. This time, styled perfectly to match the song he was rapping. His fringe, his makeup, his fit—the sight made Yushi’s breathing hitch because of how breathtakingly handsome he was.

Yushi could list a thousand things about Riku, but one quality always stands out: his talent.

Riku’s talent goes beyond what is expected of him. Yushi’s keen eyes have seen a lot of other talents but what stands out about Riku the most is that his talent is a manifestation of his hard work, meticulous preparation, and genuine passion. 

Even when Riku changed the flow of his rap, Yushi couldn’t tear his eyes away from the monitor.

Yushi was sure— absolutely sure—that he’d debut with Riku. He had to. He needed to. His first-place finish in the opening round was proof enough.

When the filming ended, Yushi observed as the other trainees congratulated Riku. Anderson, who placed second, hugged him. Ryu, his performance partner, also embraced him. 

“Let’s do even better for the next round,” Riku said, hugging Ryu. 

Another thing about RIku is that he never fails to motivate every single person who trains with him. 

Yushi had learned from experience that Riku trains incredibly hard, obsessing over every detail in dance, song, and rap. Performing with Riku makes you want to give your absolute best—not to waste his efforts. 

And deep down, Yushi wanted to impress Riku more than anyone else.

During their usual practice for the second mission, U by Super Junior, Riku called out, “Ohhhh, Yushiiii~”

Yushi bit the inside of his cheek as he danced in the far corner of the room, his face flushing every time Riku complimented his moves.

The inside of his cheeks feels a little too rough now, considering how many times he has to stifle his smile every time he feels embarrassed in front of Riku. Yet he didn’t want the other boy to stop noticing him, so he kept his feelings hidden, even as sweat trickled down his hands and reddened his ears.

It was nearly the end of the week, which means the day for filming the second mission was near.

Exhaustion from practicing two performances in two weeks weighed on him. He knows it won’t get any better, at least not until the survival show ends. Normally, Yushi would spend his short breaks recapping every dance move detail. Now, however, he simply lays on the ground, limbs spread out, eyes closed, mentally mapping out the moves.

Then, a sudden cool sensation on his forehead startled him. 

Snapping his eyes open, a cold bottle of drink was pressed against his forehead by none other than the person sitting beside him—Riku.

“Drink this, Yushi-ah.” Riku said gently. “It’s better than an energy drink, just ions, not too sweet. It won't hurt your throat.”

Yushi nodded, his gaze locked on Riku. For some reason, he couldn’t look away. 

Riku. 

Oh, Riku.

As if reading his thoughts, Riku retrieved the ion drink, opened the bottle, then gently took Yushi’s hand to help him sit up before returning the opened drink.

“Drink up, Yushi-ah. Our break’s coming to an end.”

Yushi merely stared. Nodded. And drank.

“You must’ve been tired,” Riku said, placing his hand on Yushi’s outstretched leg to soothe his tension—as if to ease not just muscles, but also a deeper weariness. 

Yushi almost choked on his drink.

Then, Riku stood up and extended one hand towards Yushi to take the ion drink. Yushi fumbled with the bottle, and Riku smoothly took it from him. He closed it carefully and set it aside before shifting his focus back to Yushi.

With both hands, Riku reached out to help Yushi to his feet. As Yushi tried to stand, his balance faltered and he almost fell forward—but Riku caught him effortlessly.

He caught him. Riku caught Yushi. 

At that moment, Riku pulled Yushi into a tight embrace.

He hugged him. Riku hugged Yushi. 

The hug was so sincere and secure that Yushi’s breath hitched, almost hiccupped, overwhelmed by a warmth that went far beyond any burst of adrenaline. 

No, it wasn’t the frantic pounding of his heart like he’s on the third rep of Sherlock. It wasn’t the erratic feeling nor the flutter—Yushi felt his heart ease inside his chest and his beat moved into places. At the right beat at the right time. He felt comfortable.

A familiar deep, steady comfort washed over him, as if returning home after a long, cold day.

Yushi doesn’t even need to say anything to Riku. He does as Yushi least expects but also wants. 

Yushi, even though he isn’t one to welcome care, he finds himself completely softening in Riku’s presence.

With Riku, it wasn’t anything he’s quite familiar with yet. 

But he’s ready to embrace it. 

As his heartbeat settled into a gentle rhythm perfectly in tune with the moment, Yushi realized—

For the first time, he doesn’t want to kiss Riku. 

All he craved was to hold Riku—no.

He craves to be hugged by him.

And perhaps, a little delicate kiss on Riku’s cheek as a quiet “thank you.”

Chapter Text

[ SEPT 2023 ]

LASTART is a mix of every different feeling and emotions all at once: fulfilling, exhausting, exciting, terrifying—even at times terrorizing. 

Yushi just didn’t expect that it would also be tender. 

Tender in the form of Maeda Riku. 

Backstage before their performance of Why?, Sion, Yushi, and Riku huddled together, talking about the intro. It was one of the key points of their choreography, and one that Riku had continued to struggle with, even in their final run-through earlier that day.

They went over it five more times, just to be sure. Afterward, Sion drifted off to check on the other trainees. It is admirable how effortlessly Sion slipped into leadership—always hands-on, always calm.

Yushi stayed behind, vocalizing on his own, trying to keep his nerves from swallowing him whole. He always got like this before a performance. It didn’t matter how many times he stepped on stage—his excitement was always coupled with anxiety, and both were addictive.

He rubbed his sweaty palms against his pants.

Before he could do the second one, a familiar hand reached out and gently swatted his away.

Riku.

He took one of Yushi’s hands and began carefully patting it dry with his sleeve. His touch was soft—comforting. Delicate. Yushi’s lip trails stuttered and stopped entirely.

“Do you wanna do it together?” Riku asked.

Yushi blinked.

“The lip trails,” Riku said again, his voice patient. “Let’s do it together.”

“…Okay,” Yushi murmured.

Riku continued to dry the other hand before joining in the lip trail vocalization, the two of them buzzing quietly in unison. His lip trails lasted for a few seconds before he stopped.

He brought both of Yushi’s hands side by side and blew cold air onto them gently, drying the remaining dampness. Then, without hesitation, he clasped their hands together.

“Don’t be too nervous,” Riku said. His eyes curved with his smile, gaze fixed on Yushi. “You’re doing well.”

Yushi could only nod, too stunned by the stillness in his chest.

“Wait, let me fix this—” he mumbled, reaching up to smooth a crease on Riku’s collar.

Riku stilled.

All his blood rushed to his cheeks, heating it up and painting it red. He was so lucky it was dim backstage—he felt the heat bloom all over.

“Done!” Yushi beamed. But it didn’t stop there. “…You look good,” he added quietly.

Riku almost didn’t catch it. Almost. But he did.

And maybe that’s what gave him the push—the lift of confidence he needed to not just get through the performance, but own it.

The filming rolled on as usual. Their team received feedback, rankings, their next mission and songs. Then came the usual ritual: everyone splitting into two van groups to head back to the dorms, buzzing on adrenaline and ordering celebratory food.

This night should have been the same.

Except Riku’s ride left without him.

His friends and roommates—Ryu and Anderson—got pulled into the earlier van. Riku was left waiting for the next batch of trainees.

The only available seat left was beside Yushi.

He shuffled over and sat down with a quiet sigh, digging through his bag. After a few seconds of rummaging, he realized the worst kind of small inconveniences he hates the most—his headphones were dead. Not just low battery. Dead.

And of course, he’d left his wired ones in the dorm.

Perfect. He sighed. 

What a ride home. 

Until Yushi held something out.

“Wanna share?”

Riku looked up. Yushi was offering one of his earphones.

“Yeah… sure,” Riku said, accepting it.

Yushi, ever the diligent one, had already downloaded Boss and 90’s Love—the last assignment songs. Riku smiled quietly, watching the way Yushi focused, already preparing for their last challenge.

Yushi is really something else, Riku thought.

Riku leaned back, soaking in the rhythm of Boss, already mapping out how he’d prove he belonged on that stage as an NCT member—if he was lucky enough to be one, considering how much he looks up to NCT. He held his breath for a moment, wondering if he was enough.

Yushi, beside him, was thinking too. The pressure, the excitement, the raw desire to live up to a legacy like NCT’s—it pulsed in his chest. He knew he was close to debut. He just didn’t know if he was ready to be Neo—Ryo kept explaining to him the essence of being a “Neo,” to the point where he adapted it. He’s not yet ready. But he wanted to be.

Then a familiar intro began to play: Be There For You by NCT Dream.

Yushi instinctively moved to skip it, feeling it was awkward to listen while sharing a pair of earphones with another one—until Riku gently grabbed his wrist.

“I like this one,” Riku said, leaning back into his seat, eyes fluttering shut.

And he didn’t let go of Yushi’s hand.

His touch remained soft and steady. Warm.

And Yushi sat there—wide-eyed, heart pounding—not from nerves this time, but something else. Something that swelled slowly, like the bridge of a favorite song.

Riku’s hand stayed wrapped loosely in his, the quiet hum of the van blending into the gentle lyrics whispering comfort through the speaker.

It was all too much—and somehow not enough.

Yet Yushi welcomed the feeling, unarmed and defenseless. He closed his eyes.

I still have a survival show to survive.

The days that followed blurred into a routine: group dynamics, vocal lessons, late-night dance practices, memorizing lyrics, midweek evaluations, director consultations, and more practice.

Yushi was exhausted. Not just the good kind—the kind that settles in his bones and lingers. But it felt fair. After all, tomorrow was everything: the final mission. The day the debut lineup would be finalized.

He was feeling a lot. 

Maybe a lot more than his tiny frame could handle.

Excitement, for one. He was so excited to finally be part of a team. The closeness he'd built with the other trainees—any one of them could make a great group member.

But then there was worry.

Because Yushi had gotten a little too attached to a certain trainee named Maeda Riku.

Riku, who was always working so hard. Who danced beautifully, rapped like a monster on stage and melted into soft giggles off of it. Riku, who was nicknamed after Mark Lee because he was that good. Riku, who stayed late, practiced harder, smiled brighter. Riku, who made it alarmingly easy to climb over the walls Yushi spent years building.

Seven years. Seven years of being a trainee had taught Yushi a lot of skills and one of them is to expect goodbyes. Trainees came and went. Some quit. Some got cut. Some disappeared quietly from the dorms and never came back.

After his first best friend said he was going home for two weeks and never returned, Yushi built his walls higher.

After Chanyoung, his second closest friend, got plucked into a debut team before his very eyes, he promised himself he wouldn’t let anyone else in.

Eventually, only Sion remained—his anchor. It took months of training together daily to even let Sion past those walls.

But Riku? 

Riku might have found the easiest way to Yushi’s highest walls and hardest maze built around his heart—no, actually.

Riku walked in like the door had always been open.

With Riku, everything felt soft. Everything felt easy.

Thoughts crowded his mind as he walked to the convenience store, half-hidden in a hoodie two sizes too big, sweatpants dragging across the pavement, careful enough that no one would bat an eye on him because he knew he shouldn’t have been dragging his feet outside of their dorm. 

He knew he should’ve been in bed but he wanted to breathe in some fresh air. Something about the midnight air and the weight of tomorrow made it impossible to stay still.

He wandered to the freezer aisle, grabbed the ice cream he grew up with in Japan—his comfort flavor. He was heading to the cashier when a hand wrapped around his wrist.

Too startled, he forgot to react.

“Yushi?”

He looked up from the shadows of his hoodie. 

Riku.

“Hi…” he breathed, caught off guard.

“Oh Yushi, you must be nervous for tomorrow too,” Anderson chimed in from behind, Jaehee giggling beside him.

Yushi smiled and nodded, laughing softly at the coincidence.

“Riku-hyung, let’s go. Jaehee’s dying to pee,” Anderson announced.

“I am not—” Jaehee elbowed him playfully, almost embarrassed.

Yushi chuckled at how energetic Anderson still was after a full day of rehearsal.

“You go first,” Riku said. “I’ll walk with Yushi back to the dorms.”

Yushi looked over in surprise.

“Okay. Let’s go,” Jaehee replied quickly, tugging Anderson toward the exit.

“Bye hyungssss~” Anderson called, the door shutting behind them.

“Let’s pay,” Riku said, turning back to Yushi like nothing had happened. He took the ice cream from Yushi’s hand before Yushi could even blink and carried it to the counter on his own.

Yushi didn’t even have time to protest.

“Thank you, Riku,” he mumbled when Riku handed back his opened ice cream. Riku kept the wrappers in his pocket like it was nothing.

They walked out together. Riku held the door open.

Then: “Spill.”

Yushi blinked. “Huh?”

“You’re not the type to break rules. I’m pretty sure this is your first time sneaking out near midnight. If I had to guess, you’d be in bed right now watching a movie or scrolling through your phone.”

He wasn’t wrong. Yushi usually stayed in. He could’ve ordered ice cream online at the dorm. But something had tugged at him tonight. Something restless.

“I’m nervous,” Yushi admitted.

Riku hummed. A soft sound, encouraging.

“I’m nervous and pressured and—I don’t know if I’m excited or anxious. But I’m also looking forward to it. So much. I feel like puking too. And the thought of performing twice tomorrow makes my head spin. But I’m… not sure.”

Riku tried to keep his expression calm, but inside, he was anything but calm. Yushi didn’t often talk like this. And for him to open up—to string together more than a few words, more than a sentence—was rare.

Riku tried so hard to find the perfect response because it was Yushi. Yushi who expresses himself seldomly, who doesn’t say too much, who picks his words and forms his sentences before he even speaks but tonight he rambled. So he chose his next question carefully.

“Are you happy?” Riku asked quietly.

Yushi nodded. “I am. But I’m also…” he searched for the right word. “ Worried, maybe.”

“Worried about what?” Riku prompted gently.

Yushi didn’t answer right away, just sighed.

They crossed a pedestrian lane.

Walked a few more steps.

Then Yushi veered toward a nearby bench and sat down.

Riku followed, silent.

Patient. He’s always been so patient.

There was a pause.

Then—

“Please do well tomorrow,” Yushi said. “Because I really, badly, wanna—no. I need to debut with you, Riku.”

His voice trembled, each word unspooling slowly, honesty too heavy to hide. Like something long-held finally breaking loose. The quiet between them swelled with meaning.

Riku felt it—how bare Yushi was being, how fragile his voice sounded. The ache in Riku’s chest bloomed like warmth pulled from the sun.

“I will,” he said. “I promise.”

They sat for a while beneath the dim wash of a streetlamp, finishing their ice cream in silence—but it wasn’t empty. 

It was full. 

Full of understanding. Full of breath held too long. Of hearts that ached to move closer but didn’t just yet. Of hearts that thudded just a little too loud in the stillness.

So this was the fourth time.

The fourth time Yushi thought about kissing Riku.

And this time, it wasn’t during a dance nor in a quiet practice room nor during a celebration.

This time, it was under the stars—quiet, easy, and unbearably kind.

But he didn’t.

Because tomorrow was the final day of the survival show.

Because today, tomorrow, and the past seven years that was full of uncertainty, the only thing Yushi felt sure of was the boy beside him.

And he believed—with every steady beat of his heart—that the right time would come.

When they finally stood, neither of them spoke. The walk back to the dorms was slow as the world hushed around them. Even the night seemed to understand it wasn’t meant to interrupt.

They stopped in front of Yushi’s door, a few floors above Riku’s. The dorm light above them flickered softly, casting a gentle glow on the floor.

Riku lingered. Like he didn’t want to leave.

“See you tomorrow,” he said, quiet and close.

Yushi nodded. His voice dropped to a whisper, like it was only meant for Riku and no one else.

“We’ll be in one group tomorrow.”

A heartbeat passed.

“Yeah,” Riku said, and smiled. “We will.”

Yushi hesitated a second longer, his hand already on the door, but he turned back just a little. His eyes—soft, unguarded, and shining beneath the hallway lights—met Riku’s.

“Good night, Riku.”

It was small. But it felt like the kind of night that doesn’t fade. The kind you carry with you long after the lights turn out.

Chapter Text

The lights turned on, but the feelings from the night before still lingered.

It was the last day of LASTART, and the first day of NCT New Team.

Today, the final debut lineup would be decided through one final performance: Boss and 90’s Love. Tonight, the missing puzzle pieces of Sion and Yushi’s team would be complete. Hopefully, tonight, Yushi and Riku would be in one team. 

Yushi prays—quietly, fervently—to every higher being he could think of, hoping Riku would deliver a final performance worthy of the debut team. It wasn’t hard to pray—he’d seen Riku. He knew Riku would do well.

As they waited backstage, about to step onto the stage for Boss, some trainees were jumping in place to warm up. Others vocalized with lip trails. Yushi, meanwhile, was zoning out.

He’d just finished 90’s Love, and the weight of it all pressed on his shoulders. This performance would mark the beginning of something. He could only hope it went well. His thoughts drifted back to the night before—Riku’s voice, his promise.

They hadn’t spoken since Riku dropped him off at his door, but the words still echoed.

He wouldn’t forget.

He knew Riku wouldn’t either.

Yushi’s gaze stayed fixed on the stage, heart thudding in his ears, when a hand slipped gently into his.

“Good luck, Yushi,” Riku said softly.

In that moment, Yushi found solid ground.

Riku had always been that for him—calm in the middle of chaos. His voice could cut through the noise like still water over stone—as if you can hear him in the silence.

And still hear him when everything else is too loud, too messy, too much.

Even now, as nerves clawed at the edges of his mind, everything stilled. No sweaty palms. No shaky joints. Just a steady thrum, kept alive by Riku standing beside him.

After a beat, Yushi whispered—soft, only for him.

“We’ll debut together, right?”

Riku squeezed his hand once.

Twice.

Two squeezes.

And then a third faint squeeze.

“I promised you,” he said. “We will.”

And just like that, Yushi felt the tremble start in his toes.

Jaehee and Sakuya had already been called. Only two spots left. Riku’s name hadn’t been announced yet.

Yushi knew Riku’s track record, everyone does. It’s easy to remember as he did well throughout LASTART. He had every reason to believe that Riku would debut.

But Yushi had lived through enough uncertainty to know not to place his faith in maybes. He only trusted what was real. What was right in front of him.

He believed in Riku.

Just as his thoughts were beginning to spiral—

Riku.

His name was called.

I knew it. He promised.

He did.

Yushi let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

He barely registered the end of filming—everything around him a blur of movement and congratulations—until his vocal trainer of five years pulled him into a hug. That’s when he let himself cry.

He didn’t come back to himself until Riku reappeared, gently poking at his arm.

They were back in their waiting room. He wasn’t sure how they got there.

When Riku caught his gaze, Yushi automatically reached for his bag—only for Riku to sling it over his shoulder so he could hold Yushi’s hand instead.

They walked side by side to the parking lot.

“The team’s moving to your dorm,” Riku explained softly. “So we’ll ride the same bus.”

Once seated, Riku reached into Yushi’s bag, untangled his wired earphones, plugged them in, and handed them back wordlessly. 

Yushi took one bud and passed the other to Riku, who accepted it with a quiet smile.

The Alchemy by Taylor Swift started playing.

“First place,” Yushi said, nudging him slightly.

Riku giggled—a quiet squeak that made something warm unfold in Yushi’s chest.

Cute.

“You kept your promise,” Yushi whispered.

“We’re in one team,” Riku replied, squeezing Yushi’s hand then wrapping both of his own around it, never letting go. “Are you happy?”

“So happy,” Yushi answered, leaning back just enough to glance at Riku’s smiling lips.

There wasn’t a trophy nor running to Yushi with confetti in their hands. It was just them—on the bus, after the studio lights dimmed and all the motion faded into a soft hum of silence. Celebrating the biggest win of their lives the only way they knew how: by sitting side by side, holding hands, having debuted together.

Time moved faster after that.

From opening NCT Nation’s concerts in Japan to preparing for their debut album, everything snowballed.

Dance practices. Recordings. Late-night choreo. Meetings with producers and directors. Music video shoots. Show rehearsals. Media training. Promotions. Press.

And somehow, Yushi never faltered.

He got tired, of course—but never exhausted. It was like he’d been made for this. 

After all, he’d been waiting for this moment longer than most.

And maybe, just maybe , he was also made for keeping Riku at arm’s length.

So much had changed. So much had happened. 

Riku, Jaehee, and Yushi now shared a dorm while the other three members stayed on a different floor. Everyone fell into their own rhythms after an entire day of work—some collapsed straight into bed, others binge-watched shows, some ate until they couldn’t move.

But even with everything moving and changing around him, Yushi found one still point in the rush. 

Like falling into the right place.

Like building a rhythm with Riku.

Routines used to bore him.

Until he started looking forward to this.

Late-night dorm conversations became sacred—just the two of them, tangled in soft voices and lamplight, delivered fried chicken on the table, music playing low from someone’s phone.

Sometimes beer, sometimes boba. 

Always them.

It was past midnight. The dorm was quiet.

But Yushi’s chest was anything but quiet.

Riku’s hoodie was soft and oversized, sleeves bunching around his hands as he held his drink, shorts ridden halfway up his thighs as he rambled about something half-sensical—a weird fan call or a Tiktok they did.

Yushi barely processed a word.

He watched the line of Riku’s jaw. The tall bridge of his nose. The dimple that appeared when he laughed. His straight hair and the way his bangs stuck to his forehead. His mouth. His eyes.

Riku was laughing softly beside him, curled over his drink, already distracted, swaying gently to whatever song was humming from the speaker. His hair messy from drying too fast after his shower, his smile crooked and devastating.

Yushi sat there—one leg folded beneath him, heart slamming.

He thought about how naturally Riku had slipped into his life. The jellies during dance practices. How he constantly needs Riku’s voice before every performance. The way he has to sit beside Riku on the bus. Their toothbrushes in the same cup now. How Riku knocks three times but never waits for a response. 

How Yushi always, always, had space for him—on the bed, in the dorm, in his hands, in his thoughts.

In every breath.

The distance between them wasn’t far. Just a table. Two melting ice cubes in mismatched mugs. A heartbeat.

Yushi bit the inside of his cheek. 

He wasn’t overwhelmed this time, unlike before.

He just wanted.

He was sure.

He wasn’t just thinking about kissing Riku.

I like you so much it physically hurts.

You showed up like the sun and everything in me turned towards you without question.

He wanted so badly it felt like something electric had replaced the air between them.

Riku didn’t even know. He was just talking about the choreography—about how hard that one part in the bridge was—and Yushi couldn’t stop watching his lips.

He wanted to memorize this moment with his mouth. To kiss Riku slow, soft like a question. To feel his smile—not just see it.

He wanted. Desperately. Frighteningly. 

His mouth. His cheek. The slope of his neck.

He wanted and wanted and wanted.

But he didn’t move.

Because some things aren’t meant for now.

Because doing this drunk felt wrong.

He wanted to be certain—clear-headed, steady. 

He wanted to be sure, if being sure was even possible.

Because his heart was trembling again, too loud in the quiet, terrified of touching something he couldn’t undo.

So instead, he laughed at the right moments. Nodded. Pretended to be present. 

Sipped his drink like his fingers weren’t shaking. 

Listened to Riku talk about everything and nothing at all.

And then—

Riku leaned over, tugged gently at the sleeve of Yushi’s shirt to show him something on his phone. 

Their arms pressed together. 

Thighs brushed.

Yushi’s breath stalled.

Riku looked at him, eyes wide. "Are you okay?"

Yushi almost said it. Right there. 

No. I’m not okay. I think I’m in love with you, and it’s terrifying how much I mean it.

But he just nodded and looked down at the screen. 

Something dumb. A filter. A meme. He couldn’t see it.

He was too busy drowning in the truth.

He leaned back, closed his eyes, and thought—

If this was all he ever had—this boy, this night, this soft almost—he’d carry it forever.

And that was the fifth time Yushi thought about kissing Riku.

And maybe the first time he knew he was in love.

Chapter Text

[ MAY 2024 ] 

It had been four months since they debuted.

Four months of pure chaos—finding their rhythm, adjusting to the buzz and blur of cameras and crowds. Four months of performing. And the four best months of NCT Wish’s life.

They didn’t just like it.

They love every second of being idols.

They love meeting their idols. Love the music shows, the praises from their seniors, the thrill of standing in front of their fans. 

Ryo loves getting free concert tickets as a pinkblood and seeing Doyoung whenever he could. Sion loves guesting on programs and spending time with Wonbin in the practice room next door. Jaehee loves grilling meat for the members and hearing them rave about how perfect it tastes. Sakuya loves making Tiktoks and getting recognition for his charming, keyring-covered bag. Riku loves writing lyrics, playing with melodies, and diving into production and composing. Yushi loves dancing until his legs give out and receiving the best food from their staff and seniors like they were everyone’s little babies.

He also loves Riku. 

They’d flown to Japan the day before and they are on their way to the countryside for a day shoot—a summer themed photo exhibit, One Summer Wish . Would they even be a K-pop group if they didn’t do a summer shoot in their rookie year?

Yushi is thrilled.

Working while unwinding in a beautiful location was its own kind of reward—but it was the bus rides he secretly treasured the most.

Long drives meant stolen naps. And if he was lucky, they meant sharing his earphones.

And his hand.

With him.

Thirty minutes into the ride, Riku started drifting off to sleep, his fingers still gently curled around Yushi’s—just looser now, as his body leaned into him.

Yushi shifted. Slid his hand out just long enough to rearrange, then laced their fingers more securely. Held him instead.

The movement made Riku blink awake for a second, drowsy and confused.

“Why?” he asked, voice slurred from sleep.

Yushi shook his head gently and mouthed, Sleep.

And Riku did—leaning his seat back, nestling deeper into Yushi’s side. Yushi ran soft, slow circles against the back of Riku’s hand, soothing and sure. That’s when it hit him.

It was the first time he’d ever been the one to hold Riku’s hand.

It was always the other way around.

Always Riku reaching out first

So he held it a little tighter, tucked closer into Riku’s warmth, and let sleep pull him under too—

But not before he squeezed.

Once.

Twice.

And a faint third time.

“Yuu-chan, we’re here.”

A soft, sing-song voice stirred him awake. Fingers brushed gently against his cheek.

Yushi rubbed his eyes, still heavy from sleep, and felt it—eyes on him.

Yushi took his time getting off the bus, stretching his arms sleepily as if waking from something gentler than sleep. But all he had to do was walk out because Riku had already unplugged the earphones, already packed his bag, already slung it over his own shoulder like he always did. Like it was instinct. Like carrying parts of Yushi was second nature by now.

They arrived at a tiny house tucked into the countryside. The kind with creaky wooden floors, lace curtains, and rooms that smelled faintly of lemon soap and summer air. It reminded Yushi of his grandmother’s place from when he was little.

They started getting ready—outfits, makeup touch-ups, light lunches in between. Sion and Sakuya were shooting their set first, so Riku and Yushi found a corner to sit in and eat quietly. Bent over their food, legs brushing now and then. Comfortable in the hush.

Yushi was lucky—his first set was with Riku and Sakuya. Before the cameras rolled, Riku turned to him. He looked effortlessly handsome: white tank top, soft pajama pants, and an oversized jacket slipping off one shoulder. Casual. Devastating.

Riku’s eyes flicked up toward Yushi’s fringe, reaching out to brush a strand away before it dipped too far into his lashes.

“You look pretty,” Riku said, voice barely above a hum. “And comfortable. So cute.”

His hand lingered, fingertips grazing the height of Yushi’s cheekbone, soft and slow.

Yushi didn’t flinch. He leaned into the touch.

“You too,” he whispered.

Then they were called to set.

The concept was simple: summer best friends sharing fruit in a tiny house kitchen. Sweet and playful, barely-scripted.

Yushi decided to play it up.

He scooped up a spoonful of watermelon and offered it to Riku—then, right before Riku leaned in, he pulled it away with a mischievous grin. Riku blinked, confused but smiling, watching as Yushi redirected the spoon dramatically toward Sakuya. He fed him instead, trying not to laugh.

When he turned back to Riku, they locked eyes.

Yushi doesn’t know what came over him—maybe it was the sunlight, or the sugar, or the summer. Maybe it was all the times he wanted to but didn’t.

But he puckered his lips, almost exaggeratedly. A teasing pout, directed straight at Riku.

Riku froze, stunned.

He looked at Yushi’s eyes, then his lips. Then back again. His expression unreadable—half surprised, half something deeper.

And then—perhaps because he didn’t know what else to do—Yushi grabbed an apple and gently pushed it against Riku’s face.

The unexpected move made Riku giggle, eyebrows raising.

What Yushi didn’t expect… was for Riku to pout right back—at the apple this time. His lips nudged against the fruit, subtle and ridiculous and so endearingly Riku that Yushi couldn’t help it—he laughed out loud.

He glanced at Riku again, really looked. At his face, flushed slightly from the warm lights. At that grin breaking onto his lips like a secret.

He’s so handsome. And so cute. And so mine.

But he couldn’t kiss him. Not now. Not here.

Not under these lights. Not in front of the cameras, the staff, the delicate beginning of something still too sacred to share.

Because they were still in the middle of a best-friends summer-themed shoot. And even though it felt like everything was blooming between them, like maybe the air was thick with timing—

Kissing him now wouldn’t be the best move.

But oh, how Yushi wanted to.

And so they continued with the shoot.

The next set belonged to Riku alone—something soft and candid: leaning against the window, lying on the floorboards, brushing his teeth in a tiny vintage bathroom.

Yushi watched from behind the camera.

Riku brushing his teeth looked just like he did at the dorm, only messier. More foam at the corners of his mouth. He always hummed quietly while brushing—never the full melody, just enough to remind Yushi he was there, always there.

Later, the whole group gathered for a group scene. The setup was simple: sit around, share fruit, act like best friends spending a perfect summer afternoon together.

Yushi sat beside Riku again, like gravity insisted. They laughed, reached for the apples and film cameras, tapped shoulders on purpose. But something in Yushi’s chest pulsed differently.

This didn’t feel like a fleeting summer thing.

It felt like something built in summer. Something being slowly stitched together beneath every shared clicks of the cameras and every glance that lasted a beat too long.

They wrapped the shoot before sunset and boarded the bus back to the hotel. Everyone was quiet, spent from the heat and movement.

Yushi and Riku were roommates.

By the time they made it to the room, Yushi collapsed onto the couch without even changing clothes. He didn’t mean to fall asleep. He just did—lulled by warmth and exhaustion and the faint scent of citrus from Riku’s shampoo lingering in the air.

He woke to a dip beside him.

Fingers in his hair. A blanket draped over his legs.

Riku, crouched next to the couch, brushing strands gently away from his face.

“I ordered our ramen, Yuu-chan,” he whispered. “Let’s eat dinner?”

Yushi blinked slowly. Riku was close enough to blur. His voice was soft, like he didn’t want to wake the air.

Yushi had been dreaming of ramen since they landed in Japan. He always did—always craved it when they came home. Ramen meant comfort. Meant something warm and familiar and entirely his. 

And the fact that Riku remembered? The fact that Riku knew without needing to ask?

It warmed Yushi more than the blanket ever could.

They ate dinner in comfortable silence, bowls of steaming ramen cradled between them, a shared dish of beef in the center.

Moments like this—they treasured the most.

After long hours of following directions, cameras flashing, voices calling their names—it felt like finally coming home. The silence didn’t stretch between them. It held them. Wrapped around their tired shoulders. Made everything feel just a little bit more like rest. Like peace. Like home.

Especially for Yushi. 

Yushi, who spoke in fragments. Who pieced his thoughts out in quiet phrases, never quite building full sentences unless he had to.

Yushi, who lived comfortably in silence, but still wanted to be felt in it.

And then there was Riku.

Riku, whose mouth ran loud and joyful and reckless in the best way.

Whose laugh echoed in every hallway of their dorm.

Whose words filled every room—and somehow still left space for Yushi.

Riku, whose loudness still moves gently with Yushi.

Yushi, who has the privilege of hearing the softest of Riku’s noises.

Riku, who hears what Yushi never says out loud.

And Yushi, who listens to what Riku only says to him.

The next day brought another filming schedule—the final shoot for their summer photo exhibit.

They’d been told the last location was the beach.

Yushi beamed. It had been so long since he’d seen the sea. This beach—where the wind moved as gently as his voice, and the waves crashed with the same excitement Riku always carried—felt just right.

They had a lot of time left after the shoot ended before they get back to the hotel, so the staff let the two of them wander down to the shore alone, handing them a camcorder in case they wanted to film some behind-the-scenes content for the vlog.

Riku loved filming beautiful things. So of course, he focused the lens on the ocean—Yushi standing quietly in the middle of the frame.

“Yuu-chaaan~,” Riku called out, voice light and teasing.

“He likes the ocean,” he narrated, zooming in. “He’s lost in his own world with the sea.”

“Comeee~,” Yushi called back, waving him over, lifting up his shirt like he was about to run into the water.

“Is this what youth is?” Riku grinned, narrating again, half to the camera, half to himself.

“Is this what you call youth? At the beach with this pretty boy?”

He focused on the horizon. “So relaxing. So nice.” Then shifted the lens back to Yushi. “Is it nice?”

Yushi nodded, his eyes on Riku—but the nod meant two things. Yes, it’s beautiful. Yes, come closer.

Riku jogged down the sand and set the camera aside.

“So beautiful, right?” he said.

Yushi hummed in agreement, eyes soft as he looked out at the wide blue horizon.

“Beautiful like you,” Riku whispered, just beside him.

Yushi turned to him. He didn’t blush—not anymore. Riku complimented him constantly ever since the first time he did. Half the time, Yushi didn’t even know whether to believe him. The other half? It didn’t just warm his cheeks—it warmed something deeper.

He wondered when he’d be brave enough to say it back the same way. When he’d stop swallowing the things he meant to say every time Riku said something like beautiful like you .

“I want to swim,” Yushi mumbled, dodging the moment before it swallowed him whole. “Want to go in the water.”

“What do you think youth is?” Riku asked suddenly.

“NCT Wish?” Yushi answered instinctively.

Riku tilted his head, not letting it go. “No, really. What’s the meaning of youth for you?”

Yushi thought about it. The salt breeze in his hair. The sound of the waves. Riku beside him.

“…Being in love?” he answered, voice uncertain.

“Why?” Riku blinked, quick. “Are you in love?” Riku asked, and this time there was no teasing. Just quiet curiosity. Hope, maybe.

Yushi didn’t answer right away.

The waves were pulling in and slipping back, the breeze brushing against the back of his neck.

He let out a soft hum.

Paused.

Then, barely above the wind:

“…Kind of.”

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

Fingers twitched at the hem of his shirt.

“Don’t know how to say it right,” Yushi murmured, still not looking at him. “But I… I am.”

He finally turned. Riku was already watching.  

Not surprised.  

Just soft.  

Like Yushi had said something sacred.  

And maybe he had.

Riku stepped closer, their shoulders touching.

There was a beat of silence.  

And then—

“I don’t know if I’m in love,” Riku admitted, voice quiet. Almost a lie.  

That must be a lie.

Yushi blinked. His heart stuttered.

What do you mean you’re not sure?

How could he not know?

Yushi took a breath. Then another. And when he spoke, it was different—steady, sure, not a question in sight.

“You love me,” he said.

Riku blinked.

Yushi wasn’t asking. He was rather stating a fact.

“Because you show up and you exist around me. Because you always reach for me first, even when I haven’t moved. You love me with your bones, like—like it’s in how your hand always reaches for mine without thinking. And because I don’t have to ask and you’re already doing it—holding my stuff, reading my face, understanding the words I barely spoke. Because I barely talk and you still get me, like you’re fluent in my quiet.”

Riku’s lips parted.

He speaks again. Words piling up, too fast, too honest.  

“You love me in little things. Like ramen. Like how you tell me things I know you’d never tell anyone else. And the way you know I hated routines, but not when you came—I looked forward to eating chicken and beer and talking about our dreams. And you know my hand sweats like crazy but never once did you make me feel bad about it because I know you want to hold it too. You love me when you laugh at something dumb I didn’t even say out loud. When your eyes go soft during rehearsals like you’re proud even when I mess up.”

He’s breathless, barely thinking. Then continues. 

“You root for me louder than anyone else in the biggest stadiums we’ve performed in. You show up when I’m not sure I need you, and then suddenly I can't believe I ever did anything without you there.”

And Yushi paused. Let it hang there. All of it. Unapologetic.

“I know I love you,” he said, voice low, steady, 

“Because in the quiet corners of my mind, even my silence calls for you. It shouts. It aches.

And Riku... you love me in ways you don’t even realize—because that’s just how you are with me.”

Riku was staring—so deeply, so utterly still, it felt like the whole world held its breath. The kind of stare that strips the world quiet. 

The kind of look that made Yushi feel seen in a way no one else ever had. Like in his favorite films, where everything stops—time, sound, doubt. 

Because when love is there, you feel it. On your skin, in your heart, your young lungs, your bones. 

It doesn't just surround you—it becomes you. 

Then, finally, his lips tugged upward

“I do?” he asked, voice warm and amused but cracking right down the center. 

He was barely teasing. Eyes locked on Yushi like he’d never looked at anything more certain.

Yushi moved closer, nose almost brushing his.

Yushi leaned in immediately and kissed him—a peck. A tiny peck. Quick. Almost shaky with how much he needed to say it.

And that was the first time he finally did.

“You do,” he whispered against Riku’s mouth. “I know you do.”

Riku smiled like the sun breaking into a softer hour. “God,” he exhaled, “finally.”

Yushi blinked.

“I was waiting for you to say it,” Riku said, voice barely above the waves. “I didn’t want to rush you. Didn’t want to scare you. But I tried to make sure… you felt it.”

Yushi nodded, like his whole body agreed.

Riku’s eyes dropped to Yushi’s mouth.  

“I did,” he said. “I do.”

And that was all the permission Riku needed.

He kissed him—again, and again. Longer this time. Warmer. Deeper. 

Because what else was left to say when the boy you’ve loved for months just told you how perfectly you’ve already been loving him back?

All the quiet, built-up ache spilled over in the way Riku’s hand cradled Yushi’s jaw, the curve of his neck—gentle, admiring. And in the way Yushi moved like he’d always known how to fit in there, his arms resting around Riku’s waist—not tight, just enough. Just right. Comfortable. Certain.

Because now that they’d started, there was no unknowing it.  

No undoing it.

Only the baring truth. As clear as the sky stretched above them. As warm as the sunset on their flushed cheeks.

Here, at last, was the moment crashing like the surf behind them.

When they finally pulled apart, breath tangled, eyes wide, grins threatening to bloom—

Yushi murmured, “So this is youth, huh?”

Riku laughed, forehead pressed to his.  

“Mhm,” he said, grinning. “This is our youth.”

The kind made of slow truths and brave moments. Of hearts learning the shape of one another in real time.

It was the act of figuring out love together.

And knowing they had time.

And the camcorder sat there on the sand, forgotten.

Recording the ocean.  

Recording the quiet.

And recording the moment two boys finally stopped almost falling.

And simply fell.  

Because that was the sixth time Yushi thought about kissing Riku.

And the first time he finally did.

And the one time Riku kissed him back.